


Regain

by wynnebat



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Winter War (Bleach), Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Inspired by Travelers, M/M, POV Hirako Shinji, Time Travel, Turn Back the Pendulum Arc, not that past!Shinji realizes there’s angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 15:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17665610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: "Shinji, I'm not spending the rest of history—time—the future—whatever you call it without you. You have toremember."It's practically an order, but for what, Shinji can't say. "Do I know ya?"





	Regain

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimer: I haven't watched Bleach in years. Canonical accuracy and in-character characterization died a long time ago and they haven't been resurrected via time travel.

Shinji is a morning person.

It's one of the many qualities Hiyori considers unnatural, which means he tends to play it up around her, yawning and letting her know exactly how early he came into his office only to watch the koi pond in the Fifth Division's small garden. Today, he steps out of the captain's quarters with the rising sun, enjoying the first rays falling on his face. It's not too warm yet, and only a little windy. His quarters are in a separate building from the administrative offices. Shinji had insisted on it way back when he first put on the captain's haori. He wasn't planning on spending centuries inundated by paperwork requests because his living space was too close to his office, and his subordinates made the false assumption that they could badger him at all hours.

On his way, He only sees his fifth seat, who's headed in the opposite direction The rest of his squad is fast asleep or out on missions. The administrative building is dark and quiet. Shinji enjoys working with people, but there's something to be said for peaceful mornings. And the chance to describe the day's first rays to Hiyori later today.

The first thing he does once inside his office is slip a jazz record into what he believes is called a phonograph. Inventive, those humans, even if the rest of Soul Society doesn't have an ear for music. The second thing he does is eye the piles of paperwork on his desk. One for him to review first as captain, the other one a pile of paperwork needing his signature, coming directly from his lieutenant.

 _The things I have to do,_ Shinji sighs to himself, resolving to go through the second pile very carefully. He won't find anything—he never does—but that won't stop him from scouring every spot of ink.

The third thing he does is spin around as the door to his office slams open. Stepping into the room is a fellow shinigami, male, dressed in the usual garb except for his lack of identifying badges or insignias, his hair a fetching bright shade of orange. Shinji hadn't gone for his zanpakuto. He's in his own barrack's, for fuck's sake. But maybe he should have, because he doesn't recognize this man, and his office is empty of witnesses. If his lieutenant is going to attempt to have him assassinated to gain the captain's seat— well, no. If Aizen wants him dead, Shinji believes he'll do it himself.

"Where were you last night?" the newcomer asks, not bothering with an introduction. He walks past Shinji as though his presence is expected, welcome, even despite his rude first words. He pokes at Shinji's record collection for a moment before turning back and looking at him expectantly.

Shinji blinks. Alright, then. He'll play along. "In bed. Where else would I have been?"

"You could have mentioned it," the man says, rolling his eyes. "Are you pissed at me? Because I swear I didn't know Kisuke meant _this_ time. I thought it would've been a decade, tops. I mean what the hell, your hair's longer than Byakuya's, you never told me that." He keeps walking closer, and Shinji doesn't step away, strangely entranced by this madman's visit. And he must be mad, of course. Shinji certainly hadn't made any plans with anyone for last night and he's worn his hair long for centuries. If it's a case of mistaken identity, it's a strong one, because the shinigami approaches him with a sharp, playful tilt to his lips. "Hey, jerk. At least thank me for killing your lieutenant."

And that's when Shinji finally realizes he should've drawn his zanpakuto minutes ago, the very second this man walked through his door. It can't be true—Aizen is strong and capable, often to Shinji's disquiet and disappointment, still—but what if it is? What if this brazen man slipped through Aizen's defenses as easily as he had Shinji's, and now plans to go through with a second assassination? His eyes are wide, and his back is straight, and he knows he's giving off the wrong signals to his attacker but now is not the time to worry. It's time to act. Shinji lunges for him, ignoring the man's surprise. He'd told a captain that he'd murdered his lieutenant; what did he expect?

It's a scuffle of swords and blows. Shinji is about to unleash his shikai, fragile walls of the building be damned, when the man wrests his zanpakuto from him in a move Shinji knows from missions with Second Division officers. Fuck, what did he get himself into? He's pinned down, but he's not completely defenseless. All he needs to do is—

His attacker's voice is rough, and he barely stops to catch his breath before he says, "Hiyori said there was something off about you but she didn't say anything about _this_."

Maybe, all he needs to do is figure out why this is happening. His attacker doesn't seem to be trying to kill him. He hasn't stabbed that sword of his through any of Shinji's tender bits. "Hiyori's in on this, too?" Is it a prank?

"Fuck," the man breathes, his grip on Shinji's chest lightening. Shinji stays down, wondering where this is going. His attacker's still sitting on top of him, no longer pinning him down as much as sitting in place with a horrible panic entering his expression. "Shinji, I'm not spending the rest of history—time—the future—whatever you call it without you. You have to _remember_."

It's practically an order, but for what, Shinji can't say. "Do I know ya?" It's been a while since he's been with anyone, but there's a fervor to his attacker's anguish, a taste of something that might be love. Shinji's a hard person to fall in love with. He doesn't know how this man might've managed, and from afar, too. He can't have had more than a short interaction with Shinji up close. Shinji would have remembered. Wouldn't he?

"You know me," the man bites out. He's leaning down, and his kiss feels almost like a second round of attack, hard and biting.

Shinji's learning a lot about himself today because he finds his interest in throwing the man off is gone completely. It's as though his body trusts him, even if his brain should be doing nothing of the sort. His body's a traitor for bright hair he can grip tightly and lips pressed against his own, for a hot tongue and hard body on top of his. There _is_ something familiar about this, but Shinji's not about to believe some madman's spiel.

The kiss stops abruptly, and his attacker lifts himself up, breathing hard from a hand's length away. He swallows, squares his jaw, asks, "Remember my name yet?"

Shinji shakes his head.

He thinks this might be it, that now his attacker will either try to kill him or fall apart. Shinji's not interested in death—or attempted death, because hell, he's a captain even if this man caught him once by surprise—but he's disquieted to realize he doesn't want to see him fall apart. "Are ya gonna be alright?"

Too many emotions for Shinji to grasp flicker across his attacker's face. The man doesn't move away, but he seems to mentally distance himself anyway, staring down at Shinji not with despondence but determination. "I'm gonna be fine. I'll fix this. Either that or I'll—" He trails off for a moment, then adds, "I'll kick Kisuke's ass. Yeah, I'll do that anyway."

"Urahara, too?" How many people are involved in this? Or is this only the delusional name-dropping of a crazy person? His attacker doesn't sound completely insane, that's the problem.

"I won't give up on you," his attacker promises. "Don't worry. Or I guess, you're not worried."

"Not about that," Shinji says, feeling almost amused. "Thanks. I think. As much as I like ya on top of me, ya want ta let me go?"

"Fine, but I'm not sticking around for a trip to the First." His attacker picks himself up, then holds out an arm for Shinji to grasp.

Shinji takes it. He's already made plenty of inadvisable decisions this morning. He's just about to find the momentum to lift himself off the floor when it feels as though something slams into his head. He immediately lets go of his attacker and brings his hands to the sides of his head. There's no blood, just pain, the kind he hasn't felt in decades. Not since the last time he almost died.

"My head—" he manages to say before it hurts too much to speak. Fuck, he should have finished the fight when he had the chance. What the hell is wrong with him?

"Thank fuck," his attacker breathes, falling to his knees again, pressing his hands against Shinji's chest to hold him down. "Don't worry. This is normal."

_What could possibly be normal about this—_

Oh.

 _Oh_. Shinji blinks dark spots from his eyes. The first thing he sees is Ichigo leaning over him. It's the patented Ichigo look of quiet panic, and Shinji's unsure of what he did to cause it. The last thing he remembers, he'd closed his eyes and allowed himself to be strapped into Kisuke's invention. He'd insisted on being the first one to go. Before his people, his partner, before the possibility of it all failing and him having to watch yet another one of his own die.

He reaches up to touch his partner's face, relishing in the fact that it worked, that they have a fighting chance, now. Ichigo is here. All the rest can be blood and fire, as long as they all made it through. His lips quirk up, and he says, "Gonna cry on me, Ichigo?"

"Shut up," Ichigo tells him, then helps him out.

It's been minutes since they kissed right before Shinji stepped into Urahara’s invention. It's been centuries, too. Shinji takes every bit of this that he can get. He wants everything Ichigo can give him, always has, and it's his luck that Ichigo wants him in turn. When the kiss slows, when Ichigo lifts his lips further away than Shinji can lift his head without getting a crick in his neck, Shinji asks, "What went wrong?"

"You arrived a day later than everyone else." Ichigo stops there, looking too much like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. "I thought your trip failed completely when you didn't recognize me."

That won't do. Shinji sighs, then does the only thing he can do. He elbows Ichigo's arms, knocking him out of balance and causing his partner to crash down against Shinji's chest. He ignores Ichigo's muffled noise of surprise and hugs him tightly until Ichigo goes slack against him, the fear and stress rising out of him. 

"The others made it back alright?" It had been a risk, but they'd all agreed to take it. Kisuke as the brains, Ichigo as most of the power behind the invention, and Shinji and a dozen others as the disbelieving but willing hangers-on.

Ichigo nods silently.

"What were ya gonna do?" Shinji asks, threading his fingers through Ichigo's hair. "If I didn't make it?"

"Remind you the old-fashioned way, I guess," Ichigo replies. He doesn't seem enthused at the prospect. He turns his head. His chin digs into Shinji's chest, but at least this way he can see Ichigo's eyes. "And fail at it. My first ever words to that you were that I'd killed your lieutenant and that you should be thankful."

Shinji can't fucking believe he missed out on that. Hiyori's never going to let up about him being a lazy bum and missing the conclusion to their so many years-long struggle against Aizen. But that's an issue for another time. For now, he just grins, open and honest. "I'd have given in ta your charms eventually. I never did like that lieutenant, anyway."

There's music playing in the background. A nice jazz. His past self had good taste. And the Shinji of right now and a future from now does, too. He encourages Ichigo to kiss him again, to forget the world for a while and just be themselves. Kisuke and the others can wait, even though Shinji's going to visit every one of them to make sure they're alright. Even Hiyori. But for now, there is Ichigo on top of him, and clothes being lost at record pace, and the sound of trumpets and drums.

"Thanks," Shinji says, later, after a round of proper celebratory _we're-alive-and-together_ sex. "For killing my lieutenant."

Ichigo laughs. "You're welcome."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [tumblr](https://crownwithoutstones.tumblr.com/).


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